


Catch The Wind

by mvernet



Series: The Hits Of The '70's [17]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Angst, Episode Black & Blue, Episode Related, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6934597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvernet/pseuds/mvernet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hard day Hutch heads to the beach alone.</p>
<p>A songfic inspired by Donovan’s, <i>Catch The Wind.</i><br/>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8hjEYTpwE8</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch The Wind

Hutch sat on a gnarled piece of driftwood. Once a stately oak, providing shade to the thankful earth and a home to an entitled family of squirrels, it had been tamed and subdued by wind and wave. Hutch was vaguely grateful to it for dry pants. How the mighty had fallen. Hutch ran a hand over his face, absently pausing to smooth his mustache.

He sat contemplating the great Pacific Ocean. His mind had wandered far away from his shitty day. He was back in Duluth, a thirteen year old, contemplating Lake Superior and his long ago shitty day. Some things never change. And some things do. He compared the lake to the ocean before him.

The lake was smooth, gently lapping at the shore. A varied hued sheet of blues and greens. It seemed to reach the horizon and fade into the safety of farmed hills and quiet moonrises. But always there was a sense of peril. Depths of cold unforgiving currents far below the surface. A place where a boy could fall through the ice or be pulled under and meet death on a sunny summer’s day. You could see a storm on the lake long before you could smell the corn scented rain or feel the fingers of the wind pulling at your hair. You had time to hide.

The lake was Hutch.

The ocean was always moving. Toying and laughing with the beach on seemingly manufactured, perfect Californian days.The ocean constantly rearranged sand, stones and shells. It was never satisfied with yesterday’s patterns. The ocean enticed you to leave home, to journey far in search of treasure buried under coconut palms. It was seldom that a storm cloud blanked out the sun. So seldom that you were never prepared for it. The wind surprised you. It jolted your beliefs and turned your head around.  
.  
The ocean was Starsky.

~o~o~o~

In the chilly hours and minutes  
Of uncertainty, I want to be  
In the warm hold of your loving mind

~o~o~o~

Hutch had kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks. He buried his feet in the sand and dug a pointless hole with his toes. He had left the office in a snit, leaving his jacket to keep his chair warm. His holstered gun was locked in his LTD’s trunk. A storm was coming and he had only his thin, well loved, green tee-shirt between him and the elements. He couldn’t have cared less.

_Starsk? What the hell am I doing? Fighting with you and Dobey about taking over Simmons and Babcock’s case. Simmons just wanted Babs to have more time flying a desk. Babs is too stubborn to admit he’s been having a rough time getting back on his feet after that bout with pneumonia. I should understand that. I’m barely recovered myself from getting shot! If Simmons had heard me belly aching he would've shot me again. And not six inches from my heart. I guess I was jealous of you all making a fuss over Babs. I was back to work the day after I was shot. Nobody gave a shit about me._

_Oh, yeah. I am in rare form. Poor, poor, Hutch. Partner didn’t pamper you. Partner found another prettier partner. You want your partner and he doesn’t want you._

_I just had to make a scene. I just had to make you mad. God, Starsk. Your eyes were midnight blue and your fists were white tight. Why do I love to see you like that? Am I that starved for your attention? Do I crave the warm hold of your loving mind that much?_

__

_Am I that pathetic?_

~o~o~o~

To feel you all around me  
And to take your hand along the sand  
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind

~o~o~o~

The sky on the horizon was darkening. Black clouds crowded out the sunshine making ominous shadows on the beach.Every few minutes. A blast of gritty air assaulted Hutch’s nose. He tasted salt and blinked at bits of sand.

_Starsk? Why do I want you? Why do I constantly think of you? I wake up thinking of your barely awake pre-coffee face, hoping to see it as soon as I possibly can. I go to sleep and visions lull me to sleep. You and me holding hands. Walking on the perfect beach. Smiling perfect smiles. In a perfect world. I can feel your hand in mine. I don’t dare even dream of my lips on yours. Why do I dream of kissing your smile that mends my heart with tender love?_

_I might as well try to catch the wind._

~o~o~o~

When sundown pales the sky  
I want to hide a while behind your smile  
And everywhere I'd look your eyes I'd find

~o~o~o~

The sun was starting to set. There would be no glorious colors this evening. Only a brief lightening of the sky before grays turned to blacks and day turned into night. Hutch pressed his feet firmly into the shifting sand as if daring the coming wind to try to knock him down. The temperature dropped and Hutch shivered. His shoulder ached as the wind poked and prodded the healing wound. He would fight the wind if he couldn’t catch it. Fight it till he was worn and defeated. Fighting for an imagined sunset warm with the colors of Starsky’s smiles.

_Starsk? Why can’t I have you? I could hide in your smiles and live in your pocket. If you wanted me I could be content. I know I could. I’d be good. I wouldn’t make you mad anymore. I’d give you everything I have to give. I’d adore you. I’d worship you. From sunrise to sunset. And all through the night._

~o~o~o~

For me to love you now  
Would be the sweetest thing 'twould make me sing  
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind

~o~o~o~

The wind was moaning now. In a few minutes the rain would come and the moans would turn to anguished cries and salt tears. Hutch watched the waves grow in anger and small tornadoes of stinging grit race across the beach. One tornado tried to embrace him and he shut his eyes and lowered his head, holding his breath till it faltered and dissolved. Hutch wiped at his eyes and spit out the sand that invaded his mouth. His blond hair was dancing wildly in the wind. But it was the only part of Hutch that moved.

_Starsk? What happened to me? After I was shot I was so jealous of Meredith and you. I started to imagine having you to myself. Taking you. Owning you. Making you mine. As if I ever could. Then the fantasies started and I was undone. I was a romantic comedy, and a dramatic tragedy before I could even figure out what happened. What happened, Starsk? Do you know how a dumb blond from Duluth could fall in love with his Brooklyn born streetwise partner? All I know for sure is that to make love to you would be the sweetest thing in the world. I could write a dozen love songs about it. But who could I sing them to?_

_I might as well try to catch the wind._

~o~o~o~

When rain has hung the leaves with tears  
I want you near to kill my fears  
To help me to leave all my blues behind

~o~o~o~

A heavy mist blew in from the ocean. Behind it a soft rain started and Hutch let a few tears fall knowing he could disguise them as raindrops. If all the leaves on the trees could cry, why not him? A dark figure with a decisive swagger made his way through the mists and wind to be by his side. Hutch hugged himself, trembling as Starsky drew near. Starsky sighed, and threw Hutch’s jacket over his slumped shoulders.

“Ain’t got the sense of an alley cat. Runnin’ off without your jacket to sit in the rain. You ain’t 100% yet, babe. You tryin’ to get pneumonia like Babcock to get outta work?” 

Hutch pulled the jacket closer and looked down at his buried feet. He wiggled his toes and he heard Starsky snicker. “I’m sorry Starsk. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Starsky put an arm around Hutch and shook him gently. “Maybe you was just a little green-eyed over Simmons concern for Babs, huh?”

Hutch smirked and continued to look at his wiggling toes. “Maybe,” he mumbled.

“Hutch. I haven’t been the best partner to you lately. I haven’t really been there for you. I’m the one who’s sorry. Some friend I am getting shown up by Simmons! Imagine bein’ taught about takin’ care of your partner by that insensitive moron. I’m mortified.”

Hutch finally looked Starsky in the eye. “ You do fine, partner. Look who you have to work with.”

Starsky gave Hutch a tight smile. His eyes had a flash of sadness in them. Starsky reached out to arrange the blond hair that the wind had played with. The rain eased. The storm had been all fluster and no substance.

“Come home with me, blondie. I’ll make you some soup. It’s the least I can do.”

Hutch stood and pulled his feet out of the sand. The hole he made filled in immediately. He picked up his socks and shoes and shook them.“Will you make me tomato soup?”

“With oysterettes, babe.”

“‘K, Starsk.”

~o~o~o~

For standin' in your heart  
Is where I want to be and long to be  
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind

~o~o~o~


End file.
